Plot Summary
Resurrection and Hair in the Drain
Louise, recently resurrected after her murder, struggles with the physical and emotional dissonance of being a clone. She's acutely aware of her body, her relationships, and the subtle changes in her home—like finding hair in the drain that isn't hers, a remnant of her "first" self. Her husband Silas is both careful and anxious, treating her as fragile, while their baby Nova, once content, now cries in her arms. Louise's sense of self is fractured; she's alive, but not the same, and the world around her is both familiar and alien. The chapter sets the tone of uncanny return, the tension between past and present, and the longing for normalcy after trauma.
Party of Strangers
At a party, Louise is the center of attention, not for who she is, but for what she's become—a resurrected murder victim. Guests prod her for details about her "rebirth" and death, seeking comfort or titillation. Louise's discomfort grows as she realizes people want her story to fit their own narratives about life after death. She tells them what they want to hear, omitting the pain and indignity of her actual experience. The party becomes overwhelming, and she hides under a pile of coats, feeling like an empty shell among other empty shells. Silas finds her, and together they leave, reaffirming their bond but also the isolation Louise feels in her new existence.
Survivors' Circle
Louise attends a support group for women cloned after being murdered by the same serial killer. Each woman copes differently: Angela is haunted by her ex-boyfriend's obsessive protection, Lacey is combative, Jasmine is reserved, and Fern is enigmatic. The group's leader, Gert, pushes them to process their trauma, but Louise feels disconnected from the therapeutic platitudes. The women's shared experience binds them, yet their individuality and the strangeness of their resurrection set them apart from the world. The group is a lifeline and a reminder of their collective, unresolved pain.
The Five Crime Scenes
The narrative details the five murders: each woman found with her shoes neatly placed beside her, each scene marked by ritual and violence. Angela on a park bench, Fern in a shopping cart, Jasmine under a traffic light, Lacey on a merry-go-round, and Louise in a rain ditch. The repetition of the killer's method links the women in death and in their new lives as clones. The crime scenes are both evidence and myth, shaping public perception and the women's own understanding of their fate.
Bar None Confessions
Fern invites Louise for drinks, and they share the peculiarities of being "new" versions of themselves. Fern has reinvented her life, discarding her old wardrobe and habits, even adopting a cat named Spoon. She refers to her pre-murder self in the third person, emphasizing the divide between past and present. Louise is struck by Fern's determination to be different, to own her new existence. Their conversation is both cathartic and unsettling, highlighting the freedom and loss inherent in being a clone.
The Serial Killer's Name
The killer's identity is revealed: Edward Early, a name that sounds like folklore. The media and public fixate on him, turning his crimes into a cultural touchstone. Louise reflects on his mother, Celia, imagining the pain of losing a child to infamy. Early's trial and sentencing are public spectacles, but for the victims, he remains an abstraction—a man who could be anyone, a product of a world that hates women. The chapter explores the need for names and stories to make sense of horror.
The Room and the Roommate
Louise returns to her job as a professional "hugger" in a VR environment called the Room, designed for comfort and healing. She struggles with boundaries, once gripping a client's wrists too tightly, a manifestation of her trauma. Her boss, Javi, is supportive but firm. Louise's memories of meeting Silas—originally her roommate's boyfriend—surface, revealing the complexities of love, loyalty, and the small betrayals that shape relationships. The Room becomes a metaphor for the spaces we create to process pain and seek connection.
The Game of My Murder
A VR game, Early Evening, is released, allowing players to reenact the murders from the perspectives of both victim and killer. Angela, one of the survivors, is involved in its creation, turning her trauma into a public spectacle. Louise plays the game, confronting her own death in virtual form. The experience is surreal and numbing; the game's popularity reflects society's voyeuristic fascination with violence, and the survivors' struggle to reclaim their narratives.
The Luminols' Invitation
Lacey invites Louise to join the Luminols, a group of citizen sleuths investigating cold cases. They suspect discrepancies in Louise's murder—her case doesn't fit the pattern. The group's obsession with answers mirrors Louise's own need for closure. The Luminols' work is both empowering and invasive, blurring the line between justice and exploitation. Louise is drawn into their world, searching for meaning in the chaos of her death and resurrection.
The Other Me
Louise discovers that her original self never truly died—her "other me" faked her own death and disappeared, unable to cope with motherhood and marriage. The replication commission, eager for a sympathetic case, created a clone to fill the void, staging a body for public consumption. The revelation shatters Louise's sense of identity; she is both a replacement and a person in her own right. The two Lous meet, confronting the choices that led to their divergence.
The Plan Unveiled
Fern and the original Louise reveal how they orchestrated the disappearance, aided by Gert and Odd. The plan was never fully formed; it evolved from desperation and the need to escape. The commission's involvement was pragmatic—they needed a compelling story to justify their work. The "murder" was a narrative constructed for public sympathy, a means to an end. The truth is messy, implicating everyone in a web of lies, love, and self-preservation.
The Mother's Love
Louise meets Celia Baum, Edward Early's mother, in the Room. Their encounter is fraught with guilt, grief, and the impossibility of severing maternal bonds. Celia's love for her son endures despite his crimes, just as Louise's love for Nova persists through the fractures of identity. The chapter explores the limits of forgiveness, the weight of inheritance, and the ways in which women are expected to bear the burdens of others' actions.
The Truth About Silas
Evidence mounts that Silas may have been involved in Louise's disappearance: secret calls, missing money, and the detectives' suspicions. Louise is torn between loyalty and doubt, haunted by the possibility that her husband could be her killer. The tension is heightened by the knowledge that she is not the original Louise, complicating her claim to the life she now leads. Ultimately, the truth is more complex—Silas knew about the plan and protected the secret, choosing love over honesty.
The Bag in the Closet
Louise's packed bag, hidden in the closet, symbolizes her ambivalence about motherhood and marriage. It is both a relic of her predecessor's desperation and a reminder of her own agency. The bag's presence is a secret, a near-miss, a testament to the thin line between staying and leaving. When it disappears, Louise realizes that Fern—her other self—has taken it, a final act of departure that frees Louise to claim her place.
The Intruder
An intruder enters Louise's home, triggering panic and suspicion. Preeti, the babysitter, identifies the intruder as a woman who looks like Louise. The revelation that it was Fern, the original Louise, underscores the porous boundaries between selves, the persistence of longing, and the impossibility of erasing the past. The incident forces Louise to confront her fears and the reality of her own survival.
Leaving and Staying
The original Louise leaves for good, accompanied by Fern, seeking a new life. Louise, the clone, chooses to stay, embracing her role as Nova's mother and Silas's wife. The act of staying is as radical as leaving; it is a commitment to presence, to love, and to the messy work of living. The two Lous part with understanding, each accepting the other's path.
The Army of Angelas
In a climactic hack of the Early Evening game, Angelas—avatars of the victims—are given knives and turn on the Edwards, reversing the dynamic of victimhood. The event is orchestrated by Angela and her supporters, transforming the game from a site of trauma to one of empowerment. The spectacle is both cathartic and unsettling, a digital uprising that mirrors the survivors' struggle for agency in the real world.
Returning to Life
Louise attends her final support group meeting, declaring her intention to live her life on her own terms. She reconciles with Silas, acknowledging their mutual deceptions and choosing trust. The story ends with Louise holding herself—literally and metaphorically—accepting the multiplicity of her identity and the possibility of happiness after horror. The past cannot be undone, but the future is hers to shape.
Characters
Louise (Lou)
Louise is the protagonist, a clone created after her original self fakes her own death. She is intelligent, introspective, and haunted by the knowledge that she is both a replacement and a unique individual. Her relationships—with Silas, Nova, Fern, and the other survivors—are fraught with longing, guilt, and the desire for authenticity. Louise's psychological journey is one of integration: accepting her trauma, her new identity, and her right to live and love. She is both victim and agent, defined by her choices as much as by her circumstances.
Silas
Silas is Louise's husband, a man marked by worry, tenderness, and a deep sense of responsibility. He is careful with Louise, treating her as fragile after her resurrection. His loyalty is unwavering, but he is also complicit in the deception surrounding Louise's disappearance. Silas's love is both a comfort and a source of tension, as Louise grapples with trust and suspicion. His character embodies the complexities of marriage—faith, doubt, and the willingness to protect those we love, even at the cost of truth.
Fern
Fern is one of the other cloned victims, a woman determined to break from her past. She discards her old identity, adopts new habits, and becomes a confidante to Louise. Fern's psychological resilience is matched by her restlessness; she is both a seeker and a fugitive, unwilling to be defined by her trauma. Her friendship with Louise is transformative, pushing both women to confront the limits of selfhood and the possibility of change.
The Original Louise (The Other Me)
The original Louise, who fakes her own death, is a figure of both empathy and judgment. Overwhelmed by motherhood and marriage, she chooses escape over endurance, setting in motion the events that lead to her clone's creation. Her return is fraught with regret and longing; she is both a cautionary tale and a mirror for the new Louise. Her psychological arc is one of flight, self-preservation, and eventual acceptance of her own limitations.
Nova
Nova is Louise and Silas's baby, a living link between past and present, original and clone. Her reactions—crying, reaching for lost hair, learning her name—are touchstones for Louise's evolving sense of motherhood. Nova is both a source of anxiety and a reason for hope, embodying the possibility of love that transcends identity.
Gert
Gert is the leader of the survivors' group and a representative of the replication commission. She is pragmatic, firm, and sometimes manipulative, balancing the needs of the women with the interests of the institution. Gert's role in the conspiracy to fake Louise's murder is ambiguous; she is both a helper and a controller, embodying the ethical ambiguities of technological resurrection.
Angela
Angela is another cloned victim, whose involvement in the Early Evening game turns her trauma into public spectacle. She is both empowered and exploited, navigating fame, fandom, and the commodification of her story. Angela's psychological journey is one of reclamation—using the tools of her oppression to assert agency, even as she remains vulnerable to the gaze of others.
Lacey
Lacey is the youngest survivor, sharp-tongued and skeptical. She joins the Luminols, leading the amateur investigation into Louise's murder. Lacey's drive for answers is both a coping mechanism and a challenge to institutional authority. Her character represents the hunger for justice and the dangers of obsession.
Odd
Odd is Louise's father, a nurse who provides practical support and emotional grounding. He is a figure of stability, taking in both Fern and the original Louise when they need sanctuary. Odd's love is unconditional, but he is also marked by loss and the difficulty of reconciling memory with reality. His presence anchors the story's exploration of family, belonging, and forgiveness.
Mr. Pemberton / The Other Louise in Disguise
Mr. Pemberton is initially presented as a client in the Room, but is later revealed to be the original Louise in disguise, checking on her clone's well-being. This dual identity underscores the themes of surveillance, self-protection, and the blurred boundaries between self and other. The character's arc is one of letting go, ensuring that the new Louise is ready to live her own life.
Plot Devices
Cloning and Identity
The central device is the resurrection of murder victims through cloning, raising questions about continuity, memory, and the soul. The narrative explores what it means to be "the same" person, the ethics of replacement, and the psychological toll of living as both original and copy. The device allows for a meditation on trauma, healing, and the possibility of new beginnings.
Unreliable Memory and Amnesia
The clones lack memories of their deaths and the days leading up to them, creating gaps that drive the plot and character motivations. This device heightens suspense, enables twists, and mirrors the real-world experience of trauma survivors, who often struggle with fragmented recollections.
Metafictional VR Game
The Early Evening game literalizes the public's consumption of violence, allowing players to reenact the murders. The game becomes a battleground for agency, as the survivors hack it to reverse roles and reclaim power. This device critiques true crime culture and the ways in which women's suffering is packaged for entertainment.
Amateur Sleuths and Misdirection
The Luminols' investigation introduces red herrings, shifting suspicions onto Silas and others. The device plays with genre conventions, inviting readers to question motives, evidence, and the reliability of narrators. The ultimate revelation—that the original Louise faked her death—subverts expectations and reframes the entire narrative.
Doubling and Mirroring
The presence of two Lous, as well as the avatars in the game, creates a constant play of reflection and difference. The device is used to explore the multiplicity of identity, the impossibility of perfect replication, and the necessity of choice in defining oneself.
Foreshadowing and Symbolism
The green bag in the closet, the hair in the drain, the shoes on the path—all serve as symbols of transition, loss, and the desire to escape or return. The narrative structure is cyclical, with motifs recurring in new contexts, reinforcing the themes of return, reinvention, and the persistence of the past.
Analysis
Katie Williams's My Murder is a genre-bending meditation on identity, trauma, and the ethics of resurrection. By centering the story on a woman who is both a murder victim and her own replacement, Williams interrogates what it means to survive—not just physically, but psychologically and existentially. The novel uses the speculative device of cloning to literalize the experience of starting over after trauma, while also critiquing the ways in which women's pain is commodified, consumed, and repackaged for public entertainment. The VR game within the novel serves as a sharp commentary on true crime culture, flipping the script to allow victims agency in their own narratives. The book's structure—fragmented, recursive, and deeply interior—mirrors the protagonist's journey toward integration and self-acceptance. Ultimately, My Murder is less a whodunit than a meditation on the impossibility of perfect closure, the necessity of forgiveness (of self and others), and the radical act of choosing to live, love, and stay present in a world that is both beautiful and broken.
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